


Letting You Have Me

by ImagineBeatles



Series: The Smut Haven (McLennon) [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 1969!paul, Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Begging, Biting, Daddy Kink, Daddy!Paul, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Gentle Sex, Height Differences, Height Kink, Hook-Up, John is 18, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Safewords, Scratching, Somewhat, Virginity Kink, bottom!John, i don't know how but it's there, it's not used, paul has a beard, read the summary for some background information, seriously john's such a bottom, teddy boy!john, top!paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeatles/pseuds/ImagineBeatles
Summary: Having recently moved to London to study English literature at university, John decides it is the perfect time to explore that side of him which he had hidden away for so many years. When his friends take him to a gay bar for the first time, John finds himself going home with a much older man by the name of Paul...
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: The Smut Haven (McLennon) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600165
Comments: 12
Kudos: 127





	Letting You Have Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, mcbeardy is like... my one (1) sexual frustration, meaning that I just had to write this. I just have a lot of feelings about that fine man and I need to get them out of my system somehow :)

_How old are you, anyway?_

_Eighteen._

_And you’re sure you wanna do this?_

_I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life._

~~~

John let out a pained groan as his back connected with the wall, all air momentarily leaving his lungs, before he was attacked by those plump lips that only seconds ago had looked as soft and gentle as pillows, but were now hungry and forceful, pulling at his mouth, the man’s thick beard scratching against his jaw. He moaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grasp at the older man’s body, but before he knew what had happened, the man had grasped them with both hands and forced them up above his head. 

“Keep them there,” he growled, forcing his body against John’s, trapping him firmly against the wall, and John swore, his body suddenly feeling six stone heavier. 

The older man was intoxicating. From the moment John had seen him sitting at the bar, drinking, he had been intrigued by him, had kept glancing at him, staring at the way he played with the rim of his glass with his long fingers and had run his hands through his long black hair, looking almost like a lion’s mane. His presence had been undeniable, and when their eyes had met for the first time, John had known he was going home with him. It had been the final thing he needed to convince him to finally walk over and get what he wanted from the man who had introduced himself as Paul. 

Even now, Paul was everywhere _._ He could smell him all around him, could feel his hands on his body, pulling and exploring, feeling the shapes of him, mapping him, and all John could do was let him. His mind was swirling from arousal and his knees were weak with want. He tried to focus on something, tried to focus on the feeling of the cold wall through his shirt, something to ground himself with, but with each kiss and groan from the other man, John felt himself floating further and further away. 

He had lost his leather jacket somewhere on the way from the car into the man’s house and now said man was tugging at his shirt, causing it to slip from where he had it tucked into his jeans, the material riding up to expose a hint of skin. He could feel the cool air brush over it, followed by the feeling of cool, calloused fingers sliding over his skin in a way that was almost ticklish. He arched into it, wanting more, his erection pressing urgently against the material of his skinny jeans.

“Needy, aren’t you,” the man teased, pulling away to look at him, and John lowered his hands to grip at his body instead, fingers tangling in the soft fabric of the black sweater he was wearing, pulling him closer, needing to steady himself as his knees nearly gave out at the intensity of the older man’s stare. His deep brown eyes were heated and filled with lust, yet also warm and gentle in a way that made John practically melt on the spot, the down-turned puppy eyes standing in such strong contrast to his more forceful and scruffy exterior. He was large, not only being taller than him but also broader and John squeezed at the muscles in his shoulders. He felt so small in comparison. 

“P-Paul...” he gasped, out of breath already even though they were only just beginning. The older man grinned and pushed a leg between John’s thighs, earning himself a gasp. 

“Not ‘Paul,’ darling,” he crooned, and when John looked up into his eyes again, he pressed down with his leg, pushing it firmly against the boy’s erection, causing him to shudder with pleasure against him. 

“Fuck… d-daddy,” John said, correcting himself, fingers pulling helplessly at the material of the sweater. Paul smirked, rewarding him by pressing down again, letting the younger man rub off against him, causing soft moans to spill from John’s lips. He was already so incredibly turned on, John feared he would come before they had even gotten started properly. Yet, he couldn’t stop moving. It felt too good.

Luckily, Paul seemed to notice it too and removed his leg, at which John let out a thankful whine before he leaned up to kiss him. He groaned as Paul’s left hand came up to grip at his jaw, forcing his mouth open before slipping his tongue between John’s lips and inside that warm wet cave that lay behind it. Paul tasted of apple juice, alcohol, and salt from the crisps he had been eating at the bar, and John ate it all up, tongue responding eagerly by following those hints of flavour further inside Paul’s own mouth. He groaned as he realised he needed to stand on tiptoes to reach. 

“D—daddy,” John repeated, needing more and pressing closer, but Paul shushed him. 

“Slow down, love. We’re not in a hurry,” he said, breaking the kiss, and John growled in frustration. “Just be a good boy for me, yeah? It’s all you need to do. Daddy will take care of you. Don’t worry about any of that. Just let it happen.” 

To outline his words, he trailed a finger down from John’s jaw, over his neck, his chest, his stomach, and to his crotch, lightly drawing circles on the fabric of John’s tented jeans. The feeling was teasing, too light, barely there but there nonetheless, and John involuntarily inched his hips up into it as he let his head fall on Paul’s shoulder, taking in his smell, musky and spicy, with a hint of bluebells. 

_Fuck_ , everything about that man made John’s head spin. But, of course, he didn’t stop there, and John gasped when Paul suddenly pressed his full hand against his crotch and squeezed. His knees trembled and would have given in if it hadn’t been for Paul’s hold on him; strong and secure. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re all affected like this. God, I could just tease you and look at you forever.” 

John groaned at the older man’s words, unsure whether to pull away from his touch or lean into it. It was too much — too good. He didn’t want it to end, but God, he wanted more. 

“D—Daddy...” John tried, but all other words died on his lips as Paul squeezed him again. 

“What is it, baby? What did you want to say?” 

John shook his head, blushing furiously at the gentle and caring tone, which made him feel like a child in comparison. He wasn’t. He was eighteen years old. Paul wasn’t even _that_ much older than him, being twenty—seven. And yet… 

“Just… _want you,_ daddy… want you…. want you—” he couldn’t get the words past his lips, being too embarrassed, but then Paul inched his chin up and kissed him again and all was good. 

“Please...” he tried again, hips stuttering as he followed Paul’s wonderous fingers, still squeezing, still teasing. “Shit… I— I need more. Want— want more. P—please… oh, please, _daddy!_ ” 

Paul growled — literally _growled_ — in response and pushed John further up the wall, pressing himself fully against him as buried his face in John’s neck, sucking a wet mark on his skin, and moved his hands to grip at the swell of John’s arse. 

“You’re killing me,” he muttered and John chuckled lightly, a warmth spreading through his chest at the knowledge of what he was doing to the other man. Before he could say anything more, though, Paul had once more pulled away from him, only to jump forward again as John nearly fell through his knees and onto the floor, making him chuckle. 

“Easy there, big guy,” he joked and John shot him an annoyed look, which Paul kissed away. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered and John didn’t quite know how quickly to say “yes” to that particular suggestion. 

***

Butterflies began to form in his stomach as John was guided into one of the upstairs bedrooms. Paul’s arms were still wrapped around him, his face buried in the crook of John’s neck to suck and nibble at the skin that was slowly growing tender under the assault. It was a wonderful feeling, harsh and slightly painful, and John could hardly wait to wake up in the morning and see dozens of little love bites scattered all over his skin in all different shades of reds and purples and blues. 

Yet, with each step, the reality of what they were going to do hit John, making him more and more nervous. He trusted Paul, knew he would take care of him, even if they had only met three hours ago at most. But it didn’t make the actual act any less daunting. He wanted it — but it still worried him slightly. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt… He had heard stuff — read stuff. Of course he had done his research and knew it didn’t have to be painful. But those descriptions of the discomfort, the initial pain, especially during the first time… and what if he didn’t like it?

He let himself be guided into the room, jumping slightly as Paul kicked the door shut behind him, and he opened his eyes to look around as Paul pushed him further inside, guiding him towards the bed.

“Nervous?” Paul asked, lips trailing up to suck at his jawline. There wasn’t so much as a hint of mockery in his voice, and John cocked his head to the side in response, giving him more room to work as he buried a hand into the other man’s long silky hair to encourage him on. 

“A— a little,” he answered, truthfully, and Paul smirked.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, voice gruff, “I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.” 

“I— I know. It’s… it’s just...” John started, blush spread down his body at the use of the pet name. 

“Yes?”

“Well, I— I’ve never done this before...” John admitted, voice small, and he pulled Paul a little closer as he waited for a reaction, hoping he wouldn’t pull away, wouldn’t make him leave. He feared he was actually going to when Paul momentarily froze at the news, his lips halting their assault, fingers like ice on the bare skin of John’s back. 

He began pulling away, and John was just about to apologize and leave, when Paul brought his finger up to John’s chin and tilted his head up to look him in the eye. John met his concerned, but not any less heated, gaze. His pupils were blown wide, making his eyes appear almost black, and John’s cock gave a little twitch at the sight. 

“Do you mean—” 

John nodded. "Yes.” 

“Right. Are you sure you want to do this? Like this, I mean?” Paul asked, serious now but seemingly not any less willing if he read him correctly, and John nodded once more. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.” 

“Because if it’s too much—”

“It’s not.”

“Are you sure?” Paul asked again, just in case, and John nodded, pushing his body against his more firmly as he reached up to wrap his arms around the other man’s neck. 

“I told you,” he said, in a more playful and singsong way, hoping to let Paul know he was absolutely fine, “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.... _daddy._ ” He shot Paul a wink. 

Before he knew what was happening, Paul had pushed him down over a nearby desk, body bent so he was lying down as Paul’s hands came up to touch and caress every inch of it he could reach, his lips attacking John’s, pulling a heated groan his throat. 

“Tell me,” he all but ordered between kisses and John struggled to keep up. 

“I— I— What?” 

"Tell me,” Paul repeated, as simply as if he was asking him about the weather, fingers tugging at John’s shirt, pulling it up to reveal more pale skin. "Tell me what you want.” 

John blushed furiously, and it took a while for him to find his voice. But Paul just waited, body pressing John’s legs apart so he could step between them. John’s mind nearly short-circuited as he imagined them doing that without their clothes; imagined Paul, hard and naked, cock out and poking at that place of his body that John had touched only a handful of times out of curiosity. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, sighing as Paul’s fingers began to explore his bare chest. 

“I— I want this, daddy. I want you,” he finally said, voice still soft and wavering slightly. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I— I want to… to...” 

“Tell me, baby,” Paul encouraged, hands sliding down to wrap around John’s waist and pull him down, letting their crotches touch. John groaned. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he finally managed and Paul leaned in to bite at his collarbone in response, hands still exploring, scratching at his skin. “I want you to have me. Want you to be my first, daddy. W—want you — _fuck_ — inside me _._ Want it so badly. _Please_.” 

Paul cursed and bit down hard on John’s collarbone as he involuntarily thrust his hips against John’s, letting John feel he was just as turned on as he was. 

“Fuck, darling...” 

“Just… don’t— don’t hurt me,” John added, more serious, breath hitching as Paul rocked his hips down into him. 

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt you, John,” Paul promised, and with that he kissed him again, softer now, more gentle, and John groaned from deep in his throat as he reached up to pull at his hair, legs spreading wider for him. 

Before things could go any further, however, Paul pulled off, breaking the kiss and stepping away as he offered John a hand to help him up, which John took, only to use it as leverage to pull himself up and press his lips against Paul again, not wanting to stop kissing him. The man was a great kisser, and John loved the feeling of his beard, scratching him, so manly, rough and soft at the same time.

He was eased off the desk and guided towards the bed a few steps away, where Paul forced him to sit down, only to kneel down before him, hands resting on his thighs. When John tried to kiss him again, Paul stopped him. 

“I want you to pick a safe word,” he said and John frowned, letting out a low grunt of frustration. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said, leaning forward again, but Paul shook his head. 

“I know. And you probably won’t need it. But it’s your first time and I want to make sure this is good for the both of us. I don’t want to accidentally misread you and hurt you or worse. So… pick a safeword.” 

John huffed, impatient to get Paul’s hands and lips on him again, but he also knew Paul was right. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something as Paul rubbed his thighs with the palm of his hands, giving him at least something. 

“Churchill,” John finally decided. He had expected Paul to at least raise an eyebrow, but instead, the man just laughed. 

“Alright. Churchill it is. He seems enough of a mood breaker,” he said with a wink, and before Paul had the chance to stall what they were about to do any longer, John had grabbed the man by the shoulders and forced their lips together again, earning himself an appreciative moan that went straight to his dick. 

“Now, fuck me already,” he said, fighting the urge to blush, and Paul chuckled again, hands sliding from John’s thighs, up to the hem of John’s shirt. He tugged it, and without any further direction, John moved to take it off, throwing it aside, before kissing Paul again. 

“Eager,” Paul mused as their kiss broke again. John rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I’ve been hard since I first stepped into your car, so excuse me for being a little impatient,” John said, gasping as one of Paul’s hands dropped down to his crotch again, cupping him through the rough material. 

“I can’t believe no one’s ever done this to you before...”

“I— I have had… a handjob before. Just not...” 

“Just not what you actually want?” Paul suggested and John nodded, whimpering as Paul squeezed him again, harder this time. “You want me to fuck you, baby? I bet you’re so hungry for it, never having had anyone properly looking after you...” 

“Oh fuck, p—please... _”_ John moaned, bucking up into Paul’s hand as the older man squeezed him again, massaging him through his clothes. When Paul pulled his hand away, he whined. 

“Lie down,” Paul said. The order, strict yet gentle at the same time, sent a shiver down John’s spine and he immediately did as Paul asked, surprising even himself with how easily he let the older man boss him around. But he loved it, and he wanted to be good — wanted to be _daddy’s good boy._

Lying down, John closed his eyes took a couple of deep breaths as he listened to Paul move around the room. What he was doing, he didn’t know, only opening his eyes again when he felt the bed dip, just in time to see Paul pull his sweater over his head, revealing a pale chest with a light scattering of dark hairs and a happy trail leading down into the man’s trousers in a way that in John’s mind was almost sinful. His arms were a lot hairier than he had initially expected, and John loved it all. He looked soft — he even had a bit of a tummy, which John thought looked adorable — yet strong and masculine, making John’s fingers itch with the urge to touch and feel. Paul’s body was so different from his own, which was still skinny, lacking the proper muscles that would come with the last spurt of puberty, and almost completely hairless. He just wanted Paul to wrap his arms around him, hold him and kiss him, whispering praises while fucking up into him. 

“You approve?” Paul asked with a smirk as he caught him staring, confident and secure in his own body in a way that John hoped he could be too at some point. John nodded. 

“Haven’t said ‘Churchill’ yet, have I?” he said and Paul chuckled as he climbed over him, pressing him further into the mattress as he placed his knees on either side of John’s hips and leaned in to kiss him again. 

“How do you want it, baby?” he asked as the kiss broke, lips still brushing John’s as he spoke, sharing the same air. John breathed deeply, before he managed to answer, his hands coming up to feel at the man’s hairy arms. 

“Like this. Want you on top of me, holding me down.” 

“Mind if I suck you off first?” 

“Oh, I definitely don’t mind that at all,” John replied, eagerly inching his hips off the bed and groaning when Paul forced him back down with one hand, nails digging into the skin of his hips. 

“Keep still, then,” he said, and John let out another frustrated huff, but nodded. He was going to be a good boy, even if Paul was going to make it difficult for him. He could do it. He could be good. 

Pressing one last kiss to his lips, Paul began moving his way down, fingers caressing every inch of skin he passed on the way, the feeling bordering on ticklish, his lips following, trailing kisses downwards, tongue occasionally darting out to lick at the soft salty skin. John tried his best to keep still, squirming occasionally when Paul found a place where he was particularly ticklish, and moving a hand into Paul’s hair to touch and pull, needing at least something to do as he imagined the way it would feel, Paul’s lips around his dick, wet and firm, yet soft at the same time, tongue darting out to lick at the head. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to imagine for long, as Paul did not waste any time once his fingers had reached the top of John’s jeans. Tongue licking into John’s belly button — a strange yet pleasurable feeling that John hadn’t expected to like — he began to undo the button and zipper of John’s trousers, loosening them, before pulling them down, taking his underwear with him at the same time. John fought the urge to roll over and cover himself as Paul exposed his erection — hard, red and bobbing eagerly.

“Jesus, John...” Paul whispered at the sight, pulling back to look as he continued to remove John’s trousers and pants all the way, pulling off his shoes and socks as he went. John couldn’t speak as the older man began to lay down between his legs, hands easing his thighs further apart, pulling one knee over his shoulder, and he had to avert his eyes and stare up at the ceiling as Paul began to reach for his prick, long fingers wrapping around the base and—

“Fuck! Oh, _fuck!_ ” John gasped, body shuddering as Paul went right in, licking a small little stripe from the base to the head as he cradled his erection in his hand as if it was something precious. He brought a hand up to bite down his fist as Paul did it again, a longer one this time, tongue curling around the tip once he reached it. 

John’s first handjob had been awkward, quick and unskilled as he had experimented with another lad after school one day. The boy had been just as inexperienced as he had been and had pulled John off hurriedly, with quick jerks of his wrist, embarrassed and unsure. Paul, however, touched him with confidence and familiarity. He didn’t just _want_ to touch him, but seemed to be willing to do so for the rest of the night and a good chunk of the morning if John would let him. He touched him as if John’s cock was something to be admired and cared for, something to drown in attention and touches and kisses, something precious, and John let out a quiet gasp as the man wrapped his lips around him, taking the head into his mouth and letting him slide deeper. There was no disgust, no doubt, no embarrassment, no shame, and John wished he could have Paul touch him like that for hours — it felt so good. 

Paul’s mouth felt warm and wet around his cock, tongue pressing against the underside of it as he lightly sucked, pulling him further and further in and just the feeling of it was almost too much. It felt as if he could drown in it, and John fought hard to keep his hips down. When he felt Paul’s free hand lightly stroke over his own, however, asking for his attention and making John look down at the sight of the nearly ten years older man between his legs, cock in his mouth, his lips spread wide as it moved in and out, John could not help but thrust up into the wondrous heat with a groan — only to whimper as Paul just _took it._

“Oh, _Christ...”_ John moaned, thrusting up again, watching as Paul opened his throat to let him in, eyes dark and attentive, one hand still grasping John’s while the other moved down to play with his balls. His beard was scratchy between John’s legs, but it only added to the whole feeling of it, and without thinking he wrapped his legs around the other man, pulling him closer with a needy whine. Paul rewarded him by taking him extra deep, letting him slide all the way in, over his tongue and into his throat. The pulsation of his throat working around his cock was almost enough to make John come. 

“Paul! Daddy! I— I—” he tried, but the pleasure was too much for him to speak. Just as last time, however, Paul understood and pulled off with a wet plop and a wink. His lips were wet with spit and precum, red and swollen and John wished he could kiss him. He looked stunning, and John needed more. 

“P—please,” he said instead, inching his hips up, _“please...”_

Paul kissed his inner thigh and removed his hand from John’s cock to reach for a small bottle that lay next to him, opening it and squirting some of the jelly substance on his fingers. John held his breath as Paul glanced up at him and pressed his slick fingers to his entrance. He hissed at the cold feeling. 

“Have you ever touched yourself here before?” Paul asked and John nodded, feeling his cheeks grow red. 

“Yes. Not— not often.” 

“Did you like it?” 

“Y—Yes… but it… it felt weird.”

“I can make it feel better.” 

“Please...”

“Do you want them, then?” Paul asked, smirking, rubbing his fingers against the rim, and John raised his hips up into the feeling, searching for more. He bit his lip and nodded. 

“I want your fingers inside me, daddy.” 

“You only had to say so,” Paul said and with that, he began to breach John with one finger, carefully pressing and slipping it in, earning himself a groan from the 18-year-old as his rim gave way, opening and letting Paul slide in. Another groan escaped as the first knuckle entered him. 

“Shit… _Daddy!”_ John moaned, wiggling at the strange feeling of having something enter him, which was neither good nor bad. But the thought that he could feel Paul inside him now, pressing against the walls of his ass, was so dirty and hot at the same time, that John had to close his eyes and turn his head away, unable to look at the older man. 

“That good, baby?” Paul asked as he retreated a little only to press in further. John nodded, biting down his fist again. 

“Y-yeah.”

“I can’t wait to be inside you... You’re so— so tight and _hot_. I wish you could see it... the way you spread right open for me,” Paul said and retreated his finger to push it back in, making John let out a broken sound. He repeated the movement and slowly began to fuck John with his finger, giving him time to adjust and get used to the feeling, opening him up slowly. Another broken sound escaped John’s throat when Paul added a second, the rim spreading wider and wider to accommodate them both. 

“Well done, John. You’re doing good, baby,” Paul praised and John keened, fingers grasping where he still had them tangled in the older man’s hair, tugging to ask for more. It was different, Paul’s fingers instead of his own, and he did feel better, even if Paul hadn’t even yet found— 

“Oh _Christ_ !” John exclaimed as Paul suddenly curled his two fingers inside him, brushing over that rough spot inside him John had only managed to find once, making his entire body contort and tremble, thighs tightening around Paul. “Fuck, _daddy.”_

“More, darling?” Paul asked. John nodded. He could feel Paul smirk as he turned his head to kiss at his inner thigh, beard prickling him in the best possible way. Paul repeated the movement, moving his two fingers in and out at the same time and scissoring to stretch him further. 

John groaned weakly as a third finger entered alongside the first two, and finally a fourth. Paul was being thorough and John was relieved, all discomfort now having left. 

“So pretty, baby. You like daddy’s fingers, don’t you? You’re so sensitive. So responsive. So good for me.” 

“Would— _ugh!_ — would like your cock even more,” John quipped, trying not to notice how much the older man’s praises affected him. Paul hummed, curling his fingers inside John again to make him gasp. 

“Think you’re ready? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Yes. I can take it,” John said and with one more twist of his fingers, Paul pulled out, and John groaned at the strange empty feeling he was left with. 

He whined as Paul pulled away from him fully now, sitting up to take off his own trousers and if John could have moved, he would have offered to do it for him. Instead, he simply watched, licking his lips in anticipation as Paul eased his belt from the belt buckle and unzipped his trousers, dragging them down to reveal legs as hairy as the rest of him, long and slim. His cock remained trapped in his underwear, hard and already leaking and John felt his own mouth fill with saliva as he saw the outline of it. Once Paul had dropped his trousers onto the floor, his underwear followed and John swallowed thickly at the sight of the man’s hard cock between his legs. 

“You okay, John?” Paul asked in his more serious tone of voice, checking in to see if things were still okay as he saw him looking, and John nodded. 

“Yes.” 

Paul nodded and positioned himself between John’s legs again, hands on either side of John’s head as he stared down at him, his face directly above John’s, and John’s breath hitched as he felt Paul’s thighs pressed against his own, strong and secure. He reached up, cupping Paul’s face in his palms and before he could ask, Paul had already leaned down to kiss him, soft and gentle, lips pulling but not taking more than John willingly gave. 

When their kiss broke, Paul reached beside him to pick up the lube again, this time along with a condom. 

“Leave it,” John said, eager to continue now he could still vividly remember the feeling of Paul’s fingers inside him, painless and pleasurable, but Paul shook his head. 

“You’re a clever boy, John. Don’t play dumb with me now,” he said and John squirmed at the chastisement, wrapped in praise. He nodded and stared up at Paul as the latter sat up to take out the condom and wrap it around himself, making John’s throat dry as Paul gave himself a couple of quick pulls as he did so, before adding some extra lube. When he leaned over John again, hand still on his cock to help guide himself, John’s cock gave a little twitch of anticipation. Paul looked almost like a god as he hovered above him, and he was going to fuck him. The thought alone made his stomach swirl. 

“Breathe, and tell me if it hurts.” 

John groaned and spread his legs further as Paul began to press in, his body giving way for him easily and with only a bit of discomfort, welcoming the intrusion, toes curling into the sheets as he reached up with his hands to grab at Paul’s shoulders. 

The head popped in first, making the both of them gasp, and John’s cock gave a little twitch at the way Paul let out a breathy curse, head falling between his shoulder blades to rest against John’s, their breaths mingling. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Paul muttered, making John flush once more as he moved his arms to wrap them around the other man, holding him close and digging his nails into his back as Paul pressed in further, spreading him wider. He tried to say something back, but no words would leave his mouth. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. Just lie back. Daddy’s got you,” Paul said, the word ‘daddy’ having a surprisingly soothing effect. John did as asked, relaxed, and before he knew it Paul was all the way inside him, fitted snugly between his legs, and breathing heavily against John’s shoulder. John swallowed, forcing himself to breathe properly as to not get overwhelmed. It felt so good, to be filled like this, the older man lying on top of him, body heavy, pressing him down, and John moaned as he shifted.

“Fuck me, daddy,” he groaned, low and husky, nerves flowing away as he got used to the feeling of having Paul inside him like this. It did feel strange, not entirely pleasurable now, but he wanted more, wanted him to move. Paul, however, chuckled at his eagerness. 

“So needy, aren’t you? For your first time...” 

“Not— not my fault… _Oh shit!_ ” 

John let out a harsh gasp as Paul moved, easily drawing back a few inches to push back in with a force that took John by surprise. Immediately, he wrapped his legs around Paul’s waist, holding him close and refusing to let go. Paul smirked against him and repeated the movement, and an inarticulate noise of pleasure escaped John’s throat.

“You like that, Johnny?” Paul asked, doing it again, harsher this time and John growled in response, nails digging into Paul’s shoulder blades as his body constricted around Paul. 

“Yes. More. Please,” he said and gasped as Paul pulled almost all the way out, leaving only the tip inside, before he thrust forward again, causing John to rock on the bed at the force. It felt so good, feeling Paul fuck into him with such vigour, creating a hint of discomfort alongside the pleasure that John — much to his own surprise — found he enjoyed. When Paul did it again, he tried rocking back, adding to the force, and let out a strange mix of a whine and a growl at the pleasure and discomfort that spread through his body. Paul cursed in his ear in response. 

“God, John… the sounds you make...” 

“P—please, daddy...” John said as Paul thrust into him again, asking for more, and Paul complied, burying his face in John’s neck to suck and kiss at the salty skin as he began to set a slow yet forceful pace, thrusting himself deep and hard into the body below him, that was clinging to him and begging so nicely for more. John moaned in response, relaxing into the feeling and giving himself fully as he took whatever Paul gave him. 

“Feels — _ah! —_ feels so — _ah, fuck!_ — good, daddy,” he kept gasping, fingers raking over Paul’s body, nails scratching his skin as his legs tangled around Paul’s hairy ones, loving the feel of it. Paul bit down on the skin of his neck, and John gasped. 

As they continued to move together, Paul’s thrusts became smoother, slower and more gentle, sliding himself smoothly in and out as he altered his angles, and John tensed around him, gripping him tighter, making the feeling all the more intense. He focussed on the pleasure, riding the gentle waves of it that slowly brought him closer and closer to an orgasm that was nearing and yet at the same time seemed ever out of reach. It was a wonderful feeling, both frustrating and yet something John never wanted to end. 

He clung himself to Paul, holding him tightly, refusing to let go, occasionally muttering filth as he begged him for more, which the older man was more than willing to give him, pressing him firmer into the bed as he sped up his thrusts. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Paul muttered as he reached down with his hand to grab at John’s thigh, hoisting it up to create better access, allowing him to slide over John’s prostate with each of his thrusts, never quite hitting it directly. “You look so beautiful like this, giving yourself to me. All mine, aren’t you?”

“Y—yes, daddy. All yours.” 

Paul cursed and sped up his thrusting even more, causing John to move up and down with each of Paul’s movements, intensifying the pleasure, as John slowly began to crawl closer to his orgasm. His cock lay hard and leaking between their bodies, trapped and begging to be touched, but John held off. 

“P—Paul...” he moaned instead, screwing his eyes shut as he dug his nails deeper into the other’s body, causing Paul to fuck up into him twice as hard. “Wanna... I— I can’t… Daddy...” 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Paul asked, leaning down to suck John’s earlobe into his mouth. John nodded. 

“Need… need _more,”_ he said and with that, Paul slid a hand down between their bodies to wrap his fingers around John’s cock, pulling at him with an eagerness that for a moment John wondered who he was trying to get to come. He closed his eyes and groaned, letting himself slip into the pleasure and forget himself as he drowned in it, it being almost too much to bear. 

Paul’s hand felt so good around him, fingers rough and still wet from the lube, yet talented and agile, pleasuring him with teasing flicks and pulls and light squeezes that had John throwing his head back, baring his neck for Paul to continue his assault. 

It didn’t last much longer, John’s arse clenching around Paul, his dick twitching and leaking, and finally, John couldn’t hold it in any longer and let go, spilling himself with a cry over Paul’s clever hand, his body tensing around Paul, as the older man fucked him through it. 

It was intense, far more intense than any other orgasm John had ever experienced, and for a moment he lost all sense of who he was and what he was doing, the only thing in existence being Paul’s hand around his cock, his dick in his arse, and his mouth on his lips, eagerly swallowing down all of John’s guttural sounds. 

When he came back to earth, Paul was still fucking him, slowly, his hand, now dirty with spunk, still on John’s cock. When he stopped twitching, Paul halted and removed his hand. John blushed at the sight of it, the evidence of what they’d done more than clear. 

When Paul brought his hand up to lick up a thick stripe of white, John groaned, both disgusted and incredibly turned on as Paul swallowed it. The man chuckled at his reaction, clearly enjoying it. 

“Want a taste?” he asked, and John stared at him, unsure what to say. When Paul offered him his hand, he parted his lips, allowing Paul to slip a spunk-covered finger inside. He licked, sucked and swallowed. It was salty and bitter, and the moment he swallowed he realised what he had done and pulled a disgusted face. Paul chuckled again. 

“You’ll get used to it,” he said and wiped the rest off on the bedsheets. When he shifted, John whined, suddenly aware that Paul was still hard inside of him. He blushed, hyper-aware of what they had done and what they were still doing now that the veil of arousal had been lifted. He winced from discomfort as Paul began to pull out. 

“You didn’t—” he began, but Paul shushed him with a kiss, removing the condom before reaching out to grab John’s hand that now lay limp by his side and guiding it between his legs. 

“If you could...” he said, pulling back to look into John’s eyes, searching for assurance that what he was doing was okay. John blinked at him a few times before he gave him a soft, careful smile and wrapped his hand around the older man’s erection, earning himself a groan. 

“Thank you,” Paul muttered, kissing him again, and John felt a warmth spread through him at that. He slowly began to move his hand, trying to get used to the feel of the other man’s cock in his hand, and trying to mimic what he usually did to himself. The angle was different, and so it took him a moment to adjust, but Paul didn’t complain and simply moaned into his mouth. 

It didn’t take long for him to come too, hips thrusting downwards into John’s fist to help him along, and pretty soon, John felt the older man’s body tense before he came with a curse that went straight to John’s cock and would have made him hard again if he hadn’t just come. The feeling of Paul coming in his hand was familiar at least, although the feeling of some of his come landing on his own body was new and exciting, and John couldn’t help but be relieved he had apparently done something right. 

When Paul rolled over and collapsed on the bed, John rolled onto his side to look at him, taking in the sight of him catching his breath, looking wonderfully spent, with his hair a mess, his body lax, and a small smile on his lips. Glancing down at his own hand, John hesitated as he moved to wipe Paul’s spunk off on the sheets as Paul had done with his, curious about the taste. He had already tried his own, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Paul’s would be different. 

Glancing once more at Paul, who was still catching his breath, his eyes closed, he rolled back on his back and brought his hand up. He studied it for a moment, unsure, before he finally leaned in for a taste. It still wasn’t good, but there was a difference, Paul’s being somehow… more sweet. 

“Told you, you’d get used to it,” Paul’s voice came from beside him, and John jumped in surprise, quickly jerking his hand back and wiping it off on the bedsheets, making Paul laugh. It wasn’t a mean laugh, merely being one of light-heart and non-judgemental amusement rather than derision, and John playfully hit his chest for revenge. 

“Fuck off,” he said, but couldn’t help but let a little smirk appear on his own lips as well.

When Paul opened his arms, he lay back down, curling himself up against him as he let Paul wrap his arms around him. It felt good to have Paul hold him like this, making him feel secure, accepted. He smiled as Paul buried his nose into his hair and inhaled. 

They didn’t say much, and simply lay there for a while, bodies still buzzing from their orgasms, heavy and yet feeling incredibly light, as if they could just float away. Paul’s fingers were drawing little patterns on the skin of his arm and hand, and John stared into nothingness as he rubbed his legs against Paul’s for comfort. 

As the pleasant, warm feeling of his orgasm subsided, though, a strange melancholia overcame John, making him feel restless and uncertain, afraid almost, though he didn’t know what he was afraid of. Paul didn’t seem to notice, and was humming a song John vaguely recognised but couldn’t lay his finger on. Soon, the feeling of Paul pressed up against him, his nose in his hair and his fingers on his skin became too much, and John tried to move away. 

“John? What is it?” Paul asked, frowning as John slipped himself out of his hold to sit up, only to not know what to do next. “John?” 

“I— I just...” he started, but he didn’t know what to say, either, and shrugged, helplessly. 

“Do you want some water?” Paul asked as he sat up too, but John shook his head and looked away from the older man, not wanting to meet his eye. He could hear Paul shift beside him and he moved a little further away. 

“It’s okay, John. Can I touch you?”

“I— I don’t,” John started, but just ended up shrugging again, and this time when Paul reached out for him, placing a careful hand on his knee, he leaned into the feeling, letting Paul wrap his arms around him and ease him down to lay with him again. 

“You don’t have to say anything. We can just lie here for a bit,” Paul said, voice soft and caring, and John instinctively moved closer to him, burying his face into his chest as he gripped him a little tighter. 

“I just… need a moment.”

“It’s okay if you feel strange, you know. It can happen. Especially after something like this. And for the first time...”

“I’m not a child!”

“I know, John. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s just… I— I think I hid this away for so long… and now this… and you… it happened and I’m glad it did but… it’s just a lot, I think. After being told all me life that I— that _this—_ ” John didn’t realise the tears had been forming until he felt one fall down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, but Paul noticed anyway, holding him a little closer as he ran a soothing hand through his hair. 

“It’s okay, John. You’re okay,” he said and John nodded, believing it to be true, perhaps for real, for the first time in his life. He was okay. 

“Thank you, Paul.”

_He was okay_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Daisy for beta-reading this last minute. You are amazing and I appreciate you so much. And thank you, Chut for helping me out with the direction of this fic and some of the issues I had while writing it. This wouldn't have been finished this quickly if it wasn't for you.


End file.
